


Oh don't deceive me

by AlexZorlok



Category: Chaos Walking - Patrick Ness
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically Davy lives, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, because I haven't read book 3 yet and tbh I'm scared, because I said so, well up to the end of The Ask and The Answer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 13:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20427098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexZorlok/pseuds/AlexZorlok
Summary: “I ain’t like them, you know? I didn’t— I—” he takes a moment to collect himself, then continues, “It ain't like I actually touched a woman. That way.”There’s surprise in Todd’s own Noise, and he starts “But those—” but doesn’t finish. Because he saw those too, didn’t he? The pictures of naked action, heavy and noisy, coming from the men of Prentisstown all while he was growing up. Like the only thing those men cared about. Not so hard to recreate in one's head.Davy doesn’t finish, not out loud, but it’s all over his Noise, the ‘I ain’t ever even kissed anyone’.





	Oh don't deceive me

**Author's Note:**

> I finished reading the second book and got so sad I had to just write this.

The sun in shining above Haven. It’s always shining, though; it shone before, when the town was on fire, buildings in ruins, ashes flying all around, so much of it in the air as if it was as natural as simple dust. It had probably been shining just as much before, too, when the first Spackle War had started, all those years ago. The sun doesn’t care about those beneath it, it’s not in its slightest concern what is happening on one tiny planet with its tiny, idiotic folk.

Today, though, that planet is in peace. And so, Todd finds himself smiling at the sun, ever so slightly.

He’s sitting on the grass with his knees close to his chest, and it’s almost as if he’s back on his own farm, happy to find a moment of quiet (but not ever, ever silence), away from all the fear and hate and whatever disgusting thoughts the men of old Prentisstown tried to push into his head. He’s as far from the centre of the town as can be without actually leaving its demesne, but the Noise from back in Haven still gets to him in a slight, as a whisper, even somewhat pleasant, buzzing. There’s no panic or rage in it, and Todd closes his eyes, letting it lull him for a moment. It isn’t at all like it felt back in old Prentisstown; that time already feels like a lifetime ago.

He opens his eyes when he feels actual, _ human _string of Noise coming from somewhere behind him, hesitant but yet calm.

“Hey, Todd.”

He watches as Davy sits himself down next to him, his long legs stretching far on the grass. Todd is almost as tall as he is, at this point, what with this growth spurt, but Davy still raises half a dozen centimeters above him. Todd bets it makes him happy, being able to look down at him, but not in the bad way.

It’s been a couple of weeks since the war was over, and they haven’t had a fight at all, not when The Mayor’s fate was decided, not after that. Todd was afraid of what he might do after he had no less than _ threatened to shoot him _ back then, but not only Davy doesn’t especially try to avoid him, it seems like Todd is the only one in new Haven he can trust, whom he’s not afraid of, when there are no doubt people in the town who would bury him alive just for being a Prentiss. Past Todd would probably think that’s fair. Past Todd, at least, wouldn’t stop them. But he did save Davy’s life, rushing to get him somewhere safe, practically _ begging _the women in the house of healing to save his life, along with Viola’s. Although Davy had saved his life that one time, too, so now they are even.

And that’s not enough.

And Todd would save his life over and over again.

Not to see those scared eyes in front of him again, looking _ right at him, _the Noise following them so broken and betrayed and weeping— 

Davy bumps his shoulder into his.

“You know, I figured now that it’s all over yer gonna be back to yer loud self. Turns out I was wrong.”

Todd blinks at him. Davy looks at him, eyes so blue it’s like they’re brighter than the sky itself, even though the sun makes it so light it's like a newborn. That meaningless attempt at a moustache still there under his nose, Davy still not even paying a thought about shaving them off. And there is calm in his Noise, and it feels like it’s colored baby blue, too, and there’s so much emotion nowadays every time he sees him, even though Davy tries not to give away concrete words, that it wouldn’t go past Todd to call _ him _the loud one.

Todd then wonders if he would really notice that before, when Noise didn’t become something easier for him than reading books is for those kids who go to Haven’s newly reopened school. And then he also thinks about how Davy saw him in action, _ felt _the things Todd could do with his own Noise, with Davy’s noise.

And yet he’s still here.

And Todd chuckles.

“You’re always the one doing all the talking, what am I s’posed to say?”

Davy snorts, turning his face away to look at the sun.

“‘Tis so lame, the war’s over, and you’re now the effing savior of this entire planet, and yet we never got our celebration.”

There’s a flash of memories in Todd’s mind, thinking back at how they did celebrate, of course, the end of the war and the reconstruction of the town, and maybe there wasn’t _ much,_ considering all that was lost, but families celebrated. And people were happy.

Davy steals a glance at him, brows furrowed, then looks back up.

“The two of us, ‘s what I mean.”

“You still thinkin about those women you didn’t get?” it’s time for Todd to frown at him, but Davy frowns deeper, in a way that says _ ‘who do you take me for?’ _ and then realizes that it makes complete sense, and so then there’s denial as he shakes his head, and then he bites his lip and lets out a groan, and there’s just endless frustration.

“I ain’t like them, you know? I didn’t— I—” he takes a moment to collect himself, then continues, “It ain’t like I actually _ touched _a woman. That way.”

There’s surprise in Todd’s own Noise, and he starts “But those—” but doesn’t finish. Because he saw those too, didn’t he? The pictures of naked action, heavy and noisy, coming from the men of Prentisstown all while he was growing up. Like the only thing those men cared about. Not so hard to recreate in one’s head.

“...There weren’t ever any women in the first place, and then we came here, and P-” he winces, like he was just kicked, at the unwanted memories, but Todd doesn’t have time to send him a sympathetic look before he corrects himself: “I was given that room above the stables, and then I spent nearly all day with you. Todd, I—”

Davy doesn’t finish, not out loud, but it’s all over his Noise, the _ ‘I ain’t ever even kissed anyone’._

And Todd looks at him, for a moment, before turning his gaze away.

“What’s the big deal? I ain’t ever kissed anyone either.”

“Wha, never even kissed yer girlfriend?”

“Viola ain’t my girlfriend.” he says, and it’s stated like a fact. Davy expects it to be covered in annoyance, and embarrassment, or _ longing_, or whatever, but none of it is there. Just a statement.

And all that Davy can give in response to that is “Oh.”

There are question marks in the middle of confusion and uncertainty, questions Davy doesn’t dare to ask, so Todd answers anyway:

“She’s a family. She’s the only one I have, she’s the only one I’ve had for such a long time… And she keeps me sane. I love her,” there's a silent _ ‘but’ _, “It’s… it’s different.”

And Davy trusts him. Because Todd Hewitt is weird like that, _ special _ like that, having a girl all for himself that he doesn’t even want to kiss. Davy would say that he’s jealous, but he doesn’t let himself even think about _ what exactly _ he is jealous of.

“Yah, who cares, ‘s not like anyone in Prentisstown got those kisses for those past 13 years. You and me, we really didn’t have luck.” he turns to look at Todd, expecting a laugh, expecting at least chuckle, but Todd is strangely thoughtful.

“The last time I saw Ben and Cillian,” there’s a flash of guilt from Davy, as he prepares an ‘I’m sorry—’, but that’s not about it, not the time now at all, and Todd continues, “...kissing, ‘t was prolly a few years ago.”

Davy blinks, and his head is empty. _The last time I saw Ben and Cillian kissing_, he said. There are question marks again, and he once again has to face the fact that he was raised on lies, that there is so much for him to actually _understand _about the world, and that then maybe he’ll be closer to the world that Todd Hewitt lives in.

“They did it more often when I was a boy. More openly. I did think it was gross tho.”

And Davy swallows, because of course he’s making the issue up, but it was so much easier. Just moments ago, when it was all about women, about effing girls he could joke about because there weren’t any around, and there were no consequences. It was so much easier. No thoughts to follow. No pictures, so clear in his mind that— 

And he tries to shut them down. Really tries, but there he is, and Todd right next to him, so close that it would be no effort at all to bump their shoulders with each other again, and if they both turned their faces to look each other in the eyes again, it would be a matter of centimeters to just— 

“Todd—” 

And then Todd does turn to face him, and Davy is _ afraid._ But with the fear are mixed hope, and love, and _ want_, just so much want that Todd doesn’t think Davy ever allowed himself to want something so much, not when he was eager to do anything at all just for a chance that he won’t be disappointed again, won’t be a _ disappointment _again. And maybe Todd has learnt to control himself, has had so much practice hiding his own desires and feelings too deep inside his own head for an ordinary man to reach, but he needs Davy to know. To feel the equal desire from another boy.

So he speaks out loud.

“Would you kiss me?”

And he leans forward himself, too.

It’s shy, and they bump noses like two little kittens, but they figure it out quickly. Todd feels Davy’s stupid mustache brush against his own lip, and it tickles enough to get a bubbly chuckle out of him, not that Davy pays attention, pressing more against him, lips moving clumsily from one corner of his mouth to another, still trying to take power. Todd doesn’t know which one of them first reaches for the other’s hand, but they touch, and it amazes him how gentle that touch is, after all the times they used the same hands to beat each other up, leaving the other laying on the ground in dirt and blood. But it doesn’t matter.

The pink that flows around is warm and fuzzy and free of thought, and Todd isn’t sure which one of them it’s coming from. It would only be fair to say both.

Todd pulls back and looks into the older boy’s eyes, happiness glowing from his face, and it’s so much better than that look of fright and betrayal than Todd thinks that maybe it will finally leave his own head.

“...How was it?”

“Tender,” and Todd can hear it before Davy can open his mouth: “Do it again.”


End file.
